


Set My Heart Aflame, Ev'ry Part Aflame (This Is Not A Game)

by misato



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Hotel Sex, M/M, Mirror Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 22:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9038120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misato/pseuds/misato
Summary: Their love is the sound of blades smacking against ice, it’s the way Viktor never takes his eyes off of him, it’s the feeling of tight hugs and arms wrapped over shoulders. It’s tears that tumble faster than you can explain them, it’s drunk dancing and sudden kisses and unforgotten promises, and-
Viktor’s kissing him, his mouth warm and safe and comforting in the foreign hotel room.





	

**Author's Note:**

> ok so i literally binge watched yuri on ice (i finished the finale like 20 minutes ago) so i could write fanfiction for it immediately and this was the result lol.
> 
> there will be more coming. prepare yourselves.

This hotel is the fanciest thing Yuuri’s ever seen, excluding Viktor himself. 

And Viktor seems determined to debauch it.

Viktor kisses him deeply as they stumble through the revolving doors, presses his lips to the back of his neck as they make their way through the lobby, bites at his jaw as they step into the glass elevator.

The whole hotel watches through transparent walls as Viktor mouths fiercely at Yuuri’s collarbone until a mark forms, and a wayward moan reverberates through the elevator before he can help himself.

They tumble out of the elevator doors and race through the hall, Viktor tugging Yuuri along by the hand. Yuuri fumbles in his pocket for the keycard and slides it upside-down and backwards before he finally ( _ “Finally!”  _ Viktor gasps, the word coming out in a single breath.) unlocks the room. The door slams behind them after Yuuri carefully places the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign onto the handle. They stand there for a moment, hearts pounding and chests heaving. 

The hotel room is beautiful, but Yuuri can’t tear his eyes from Viktor.

“What do you want?” Viktor murmurs.

Yuuri’s hand slides absentmindedly over his neck, his fingers feeling for the bruise that Viktor left there.

He’s been half-hard since dinner. Viktor’s hand had started on his knee and had gradually slid up to his inner thigh, until he could feel those fingers brushing softly against his cock. 

He had rejected every offer of alcohol, because he was certain that if he got drunk he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from grinding against Viktor with ruthless abandon.

And yet Viktor had gently teased at his crotch as Yuuri had tried (and failed) to hold a conversation with any of his friends.

Before they had left, Viktor had leaned in and whispered,

“I could fuck you over this table.”

Months ago, Yuuri would have practically squealed in embarrassment and flown halfway across the room, but he had merely nodded as if Viktor had just told him what the weather would be like tomorrow. 

“Later,” Yuuri had murmured, and Viktor smiled.

Viktor was good enough to wait until they reached the hotel, but it’s not as if the press wasn’t snapping photos left and right anyway; he’s certain there will be lewd shots of them broadcasted on television tomorrow morning.

“Stop thinking so much,” Viktor says brashly, jarring him from his daze.

He strides forward, once, twice, until their foreheads nearly brush together.

“What do you want, Yuu-ri?” He savors the man’s name.

“I want  _ you _ ,” Yuuri says.

Viktor laughs, and it’s not a ha-ha laugh; it’s a sharp noise that comes with a smirk and a toss of his hair.

“You’ve gotten so confident,” he says. “I love that about you.”

Yuuri shivers. They haven’t gotten to pure I-love-you’s yet, but what they have is more than three words. Their love is the sound of blades smacking against ice, it’s the way Viktor never takes his eyes off of him, it’s the feeling of tight hugs and arms wrapped over shoulders. It’s tears that tumble faster than you can explain them, it’s drunk dancing and sudden kisses and unforgotten promises, and-

Viktor’s kissing him, his mouth warm and safe and comforting in the foreign hotel room.

“Will you do something for me, Yuuri?”

“Anything,” he says, breathless, and he means it.

“Let me show you Eros.”

Yuuri gets a confused look on his face, one that’s hopelessly adorable.

“Viktor, you  _ are  _ Eros.”

It’s true, the man is practically a living and breathing representation of sexual love, and yet Viktor shakes his head, his silver hair falling into his eyes.

“I want to show you  _ your  _ Eros.”

And he tips his head towards the full-length mirror that adorns the wall opposite their bed, and Yuuri understands what he means.

“No,” he says, pressing his hands to his face to cover the rapidly rising flush that so often betrays him. “I’ve got to look so disgusting during sex, I really don’t want to see myself doing th-”

“You’re wrong,” Viktor cuts him off. “I won’t force you, of course. It’s just…” he pauses, as if searching for the right words. “I want you to see yourself how I see you.”

“And how is that?” Yuuri teases, fishing for the compliment.

“Beautiful,” Viktor leans in close, the word a breathy whisper against the shell of Yuuri’s ear.

“Okay,” Yuuri says, because he trusts him, believes in him, wants him.

He’s wanted him since he was a goddamn teenager; he can’t count the number of times he came in the shower with a hand on his cock and Viktor’s name on his lips.

He never thought he’d be able to have him.

Yuuri strips; he doesn’t make a show of it, but Viktor still can’t hold back a gasp when he tugs off his boxer briefs and reveals his cock, which is almost painfully hard.

Viktor curses in Russian, and pulls Yuuri in for a sweet, warm kiss.

“Touch yourself on the bed, baby,” he says, and pulls a small bottle of lube out of his coat pocket, as if that is something that  _ anyone  _ should be carrying on the go, and tosses it onto the sheets.

Yuuri climbs onto the huge bed and stares at himself in the mirror, at his blushing cheeks and windswept hair. His cock is dark and heavy in the dim light of the room, and he teases himself with slow strokes, as Viktor would.

He reaches for the lube and drizzles a small amount onto his hand (it’s cherry flavored, for fuck’s sake, of course it would be), and runs that hand over his cock before spreading his legs wide and pressing two fingers into the pucker of his hole.

“Stop,” Viktor says. “I wanna work you open.”

If there’s one thing that the press got right about Viktor’s sex life, it’s that he loves to eat ass. And  _ fuck _ , is he good at it.

Yuuri turns around, ass in the air, and Viktor laughs.

“Face the mirror, darling.”

He watches himself in the mirror as Viktor slowly divests himself of his clothing. His pupils are blown wide, although it’s hard to tell with his dark eyes. He’s never noticed the way his eyes sparkle like that, though, with pure lust.

Maybe this is the Eros that the audience sees on the ice.

By the time the other man is finished stripping, he’s pretty much aching for it.

“Please,” Yuuri whines, and Viktor kneels on the bed behind him and licks, wet and deep, up the cleft of his ass.

He drags that wicked tongue over his hole, and Yuuri watches his mouth fall open in a moan.

“One day you should listen to yourself, really. You sound beautiful when you’re getting fucked,” Viktor murmurs. “I could choreograph a program to it.”

Yuuri laughs, a sound that fades into a bright moan as Viktor presses two, then three fingers into his ass.

“You open up so nicely for me.”

“More,” Yuuri cries, and he stares at the way his lips form the word. “More, Viktor, please.”

“Okay, okay,” Viktor says, slicking himself with the cherry flavored lube and lining up with Yuuri’s hole. 

Viktor slams into him, and his eyes flutter shut as his knees grow weak from arousal.

“Open your eyes, baby.”

Yuuri does, and he’s an absolute mess in the best way. He feels himself get harder at seeing what Viktor does to him; this is the Eros that flutters in his belly when they make eye contact on the ice, this is the Eros that lay dormant within him, and Viktor has awakened it with a burning fire.

“Wait,” he says, and Viktor pulls out.

He cringes at the feeling of emptiness, but stands with wobbly legs and walks towards the mirror before pressing his lips to the reflection and kissing it wetly. He hears Viktor moan before feeling warm arms loop around his waist and gasping as Viktor’s cock slides into his ass again.

He stifles his moans against the slick glass of the mirror, one hand fluttering fast over his cock as Viktor thrusts in and out.

“Yes,” Viktor gasps. “You’re so perfect, Yuuri, you’re so good.”

“ _ Viktor _ ,” Yuuri cries out, and cum streaks the mirror.

Viktor finishes moments later, and then he pulls out.

Yuuri has to press two hands to the mirror before he falls over, but then Viktor pulls him close in a hug, lips brushing his ear.

“Did you find your Eros?”

Yuuri nods breathlessly.

“I think I might need to see it one more time.”


End file.
